Nightcall
by MsSweetSerialKiller
Summary: Derek pulls her into a hug, and it's weird because when's the last time Derek's hugged someone?


_"….I'm giving you a nightcall to tell you how I feel…."_

She didn't realise she'd spent two days roaming the woods naked until she had. But the memories never came back entirely; it was just flashes of crumbled leaves and forgotten feelings. She could remember the sound of the leaves tearing as she stepped on them but she couldn't see herself there.

She didn't remember dragging Derek through the woods by his arms until Peter was back. Until she moved her eyes away from Peter's in fear, in submission and she saw Derek trembling in fear and surprisingly after that she remembers nothing too.

She didn't recognise the school pool because she had no idea of how or why she happened to get there. She didn't even remember the scream. But she remembers feeling that something was wrong, she remembers her throat drying and the fear rising and her mouth opening but for once, she doesn't hear the sound. She feels death instead.

When she screams for Allison, it's the loudest she's ever screamed. And she screams not for Scott or Stiles or Isaac, but she screams for herself and Ally, because she's killed her best friend and that's what she remembers, not some dim tunnel.

With Derek it's different; she can feel herself moving out of bed, putting on her shoes. She hears the click of the doorknob and she's a little surprised that even when she's possessed she's careful. And she walks to his loft, she doesn't drive. And that's her fighting, trying to scream back at herself, telling herself to walk back inside but she can't. She still walks, and she can hear the clack of her heels and she can feel the wind of the night against arms but she doesn't shiver, it's like something taken over body but not over her mind. She hears crows and her own laboured breathing and it distracts her, everything she hears weakens her, allowed her to become more vulnerable to the darkness, to the scream. And the small part of her that what's to give up vindictively says _why don't you? Why do you care about Derek? He tried to kill you. He wanted to kill you. He hates you, and everything you've done. It's your fault Peter came back; it's all your fault._ And part of her does wonder why does she cares about Derek Hale? He's done nothing for her. But he's pack. And you don't give up on pack Lydia. And she stops for a moment she stops, she stands in complete silence, hears absolutely nothing and she feels laughter building up in her chest in place of fear. But it's over as quick as it starts, but her foot unwilling moves forward and she can feel death again. She can feel it everywhere, on her hands, her face, and her hair. She can smell it everywhere. And soon one step forward becomes two and two becomes three until she's standing in front of the loft building, trying to end the raging war going on inside her. Then she blinks and all she can see now are doors, the loft doors. And she can almost hear it now, as it rises in her throat. Attempting to hold it back, she looks down and tries to focus on the stained wood but it's no use because Derek says, 'Lydia,' in such a confused way and she can sense the hint of worry in his tone and her gaze meets his and for a moment she thinks he's understood, that he's heard her, 'I'm sorry,' but she's not sure because she screams, like a banshee.

She's wakes up on a soft bed, her throat hoarse, worn and tired, and her eyes weary. She wakes up to see Derek sitting on the edge on the bed observing her. She opens her mouth to speak, to say something but he beats her to it.

'I've never seen a banshee scream before. They're incredibly rare and they've usually never been anywhere near Beacon Hills.' He explains.

'I think my grandmother was one.' At the incline of his head she continues, 'There was this sound- proof room in her old lake house and there was this recording, it told me the first cipher key. Yours, I looked for. I didn't mean for it to be your name Derek. I don't want you to die.'

'Lydia, it's not your fault. None of this is on you.'

'But it is, a banshee created the dead pool. A banshee wants to kill you and I can't even find her, I should be able to hear her or at least sense her or be able to do something but I can't and I'm just so useless. I have nothing. I just scream and I don't even know how you're going to die, oh god' she chokes back a sob, 'You're going to die, because I can't stop it.'

Derek pulls her into a hug, and it's weird because when's the last time Derek's hugged someone? She'd crack a smile if it wasn't for the tears leaving her eyes, it the end she lets out a choked sob burying herself deeper into his shoulder.

'It's not your fault Lydia, okay' he says moving her forward so she's looking him straight in the eyes, 'None of this is your fault. You're a banshee and banshees predict death, it's your nature. You don't get to choose who you dies, you just feel it. Besides, know we know I could die we can stop it'

'But it's everywhere; you smell like death Derek, it's so strong that it wants to make me scream. I thought it was everything here that smelt of death, maybe because I don't want to believe that you're going to die but it's you. And every time I close my eyes I can feel you dying, in agonising pain but I don't know how to stop it. I can't help you Derek, I don't know what to do. I don't want to lose anyone else.'

'Lydia.'

'And I don't even understand why. I don't understand why I care. You hate me. So why so I care if you die. Why so I feel like part of me is going to die if you die.'

'I don't hate you Lydia.'

'I brought your psychotic uncle back to life, I'm sure you do.'

'That wasn't your fault and it was wrong of me to put that on you. You care because I'm pack. We're pack. And losing a pack member is like losing a limb. So I'm not going to let myself die. I'm not going to put that on you, or Scott or Stiles.'

She sniffles, 'Okay.'

'Okay' Derek responds.


End file.
